22/02/2026
There was a season of my life when, for two whole years, you couldn’t pay me to enter a church.
After my brother died in church, something in me just… shut down.
Not because I was angry at God. Not because I didn’t try. I tried so many times.
But I’d get to the gate and start having a full blown panic attack.
Or sit in service and feel completely out of my body.
And while I was fighting to get back to normal, some church people didn’t make it easier, especially in the church where it happened.
Not everybody is emotionally intelligent. Not every “pray it away” is wisdom.
While I felt like I was failing spiritually, God wasn’t rushing me.
He was with me in the slowness. In the staying away. In the healing I couldn’t even see yet.
Healing went ahead of me before I ever felt ready.
This morning, I woke up excited to go to church.
Not the one where it happened, but somewhere I’m actually growing and looking forward to service again.
And that might sound small, but for me?
That’s healing. 🤍
